If I Only Could
by DSLoveAlways
Summary: Ryan finds himself back at the end of season 2 before Marissa shot Trey. He's going to relive senior year and season 3 of the OC. What events will Ryan alter? What will he keep the same? And most importantly, will he be able to save Marissa this time?
1. On Pause Without Her Now

_Chapter One: On Pause Without her Now_

_How do you deal when you lose the love of your life?_

_What does it feel like when everything changes? _

Regret comes in all shapes and sizes. Some are small like when we do a bad thing for a good reason. Some are bigger like when we let down a friend. Some of us escape the pangs of regret by making the right choice. Some of us have little time for regret because we're looking forward to the future. Sometimes we have to fight to come to terms with the past and sometimes we bury our regret by promising to change our ways. But our biggest regrets are not for the things we did, but for the things we didn't do, things we didn't say that could save someone we cared about… especially when we can see the dark storm that's headed their way.

_It doesn't hurt me.  
You want to feel, how it feels?  
You want to know, know that it doesn't hurt me?  
You want to hear about the deal I'm making?  
You… (be running up that hill)  
You and me… (be running up that hill)_

He laid silently, blankets bunched and tucked under his chin. The room was quiet, darkness creeping from all corners. His motionless body was cocooned in his solitude, warming his skin and the sheets beneath. He had been there for hours, the weight of her death pressing on his heart and mind with the heavy pressures of misery. He didn't move, or speak, or do anything but stay there, trying to remember the last traces of her scent atop his pillowcase. The life that he knew, that he had come to love, was officially over. She was gone now, and no words of sympathy or tears shed in grief would ever bring her back to him. He slept through his pain the best he could, trying to tell himself that it was okay to be miserable…it was just the way the mind processes what's happening. It shuts down for a while, on pause, until it all finally sinks in, and the world officially sucks.

_And if I only could,  
Make a deal with God,  
And get him to swap our places,  
Be running up that road,  
Be running up that hill,   
Be running up that building.  
If I only could..._

Things had ended soon before all of this. Yet another thing had come between the two, tearing them apart in the mere blink of an eye. He had given up, really, trying to spare them all what was ultimately coming. All year things had been shaky. They had only made the best of things in hopes of starting everything over. Perhaps hoping all of those feelings would reignite and they'd be back to the way they used to in complete romantic bliss. Things were only that way for a short time anyway. Why not make the best of things while it lasted?

Sometimes it's easier to pretend things are okay rather than face a difficult truth. So they'd go through the motions, the rituals of everyday life. They'd hope the comfortable rhythms of familiarity would hold off the inevitable for just a little longer. Return things to normal. Anything to buy them just a little more time. Playing pretend, make believe. It might be the one thing they never outgrew.

_You don't want to hurt me,  
But see how deep the bullet lies.  
Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder.  
There's a thunder in our hearts, baby._

But no matter how hard they would try, they could never be truly happy. They could never get or be that way. They weren't the kind of couple who talked about their feelings, or tried in any way to prove everyone wrong when they were uneasy about their union. It was always good at first, getting used to each other again and enjoying the fact that their future held all possibilities. Who knew what would happen? If they would stay together longer, lasting through everything and being more in love than ever, or just living each day in awkwardness, trying to hold on to something that was no longer even there.

_  
So much hate for the ones we love?  
Tell me, we both matter, don't we?  
You… (be running up that hill)  
You and me… (be running up that hill)  
You and me, won't be unhappy._

Earlier that year, when everything was settling down with Trey and the police, Ryan had promised her, promised himself, that they would start over. They would start fresh and put the past behind them, making sure they would never be alone again. They sat at that lifeguard stand, believing the fact that maybe this was their time. Maybe this was their last chance. Senior year had to be all time, right? Wrong. Again, they had struggled and parted ways despite the unbearable heartbreak…only to leave him feeling worse and worse, without her now.

_And if I only could,  
make a deal with God,  
And get him to swap our places,  
Be running up that road,  
Be running up that hill,   
Be running up that building,  
if I only could, oh...  
_

He couldn't imagine his future now. How would he make it knowing he would never see her face again, never feel her touch, and never hear a breath of word escape her lips again? They would never experience college life, never see where the road would take them, and they would never be able to battle life's hardships together, side by side as planned. Everyone kept telling him that each day without her would get easier… that he would learn to live with the fact even though it still hurt. But deep down inside the core of everybody, lies those dark feelings. Those feelings you hide when something goes wrong, when you're mad at the world, and you push your emotions away. It's where everything goes…where the pause button lies.

_  
Come on, baby, c'mon c'mon darling,  
Let me steal this moment from you now.  
Come on, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,  
Let's exchange the experience  
oh..._

Sometimes, no matter how much faith we have, we lose people. They are never forgotten, and sometimes, it's the memories we hold that gives us the strength to go on…keep going…move forward because it's what they would want from you. Time heals all wounds, right? Wrong. Time takes it all, whether you want it to or not. Time takes it all, time bears it away, and in the end...there's only darkness. Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there yet again. Ryan would lay, alone, pushing everyone and everything away so he could grieve by himself. Try and make sense of it all and try and think of what things would be like from then on.

_  
And if I only could,  
make a deal with God,  
And get him to swap our places,  
Be running up that road,  
Be running up that hill,   
With no problems._

He opened his eyes at last, eyelids sticky and puffy with the thin film of sleep. His pupils were a darker shade of blue, his mourning sadness drooping his face. His head moved from the pillow and he flipped over to his back, his body now parallel to the ceiling. His whole body ached, muscles weak and stinging. He hadn't moved for what seemed like days. His blankets bunched on his side and he had to push and free himself from their tight clutches. He struggled; feeling tied down and trapped, tangled in himself.

_If I only could, be running up that hill._

_  
_He kicked his legs and punched through the blanket, screams of anger, sadness, and pain escaping his throat with slashing limbs. She was gone. The one person who he thought would be there through thick and thin. The one person who told him things would be okay and actually meant it…even if they never were for her.

_If I only could, be running up that hill.  
_

In this blackout of rage, a hand flew to his bedside table, lifting an object and hurling it toward the opposite wall, watching and hearing it shatter on impact.

_If I only could, be running up that hill.  
_

A loud exhale came from his nose as he blinked away the brimming tears. Nothing seemed real anymore. Was he awake? Was he alive? His body was frozen with a stiff numbness. All he wanted was for all this to end. All he wanted was to have her again. All he wanted was another chance, another try. One last chance. One last chance to save his girl. One last chance to make things right. One last chance to unpause himself….

_If I only could, be running up that hill… _

_If I only could, be running up that hill…  
_


	2. I Didn't Lose Her

Alright, here's chapter two. Starts where it left off. Chapter three we go on to see someone else and then I think chapter five we go back to Ryan. You'll see how it works out. Please review!

_Chapter Two: I Didn't Lose Her…_

Knocks at the door took him out of his haze, his teary eyes lazily moving toward the wall of glass opposite his bed. He laid still, no movement but his chest's fast rise and fall, breaths escaping quickly. He was in a state of hysterics, eyes wide even in exhaustion, cheeks damp with fresh fallen tears. He dared not make a move, hoping in his mind that whoever was there would get the hint and leave him alone. Leave him there to sit on his own. Leave him there to rot in thought. His hopes were shot down with more bangs and knocks.

A muffled voice filtered through to him, pleas to open up echoing and radiating against the walls. The voice's words went through him, comprehension wavering with the carelessness of grief. He truly just didn't care anymore. He didn't care about anything, anybody. Not even himself. Everyone and everything was just too unimportant to even waste energy on.

Seth stood at the door, arm and balled fist raised to the shimmering glass. His knuckles pressed together, reddened slightly with the pressure of knocking. "Ryan…" he called, pausing his attempts to listen for movement inside. Nothing. Seth grew somewhat impatient. "Ryan, please." he said, looking down at the cement of the patio. "You can't stay in there forever…" He slid his hands into his pockets, the breeze causing his body to stiffen from cold air. His hair ruffled and swayed slightly in the wind, a hand finding the back of his neck to rub and sigh with defeat.

He looked behind him toward the house, motionless and empty, wondering if he should just give up and go back inside. Ryan obviously wanted nothing to do with him…or anyone. He secluded himself from the outside world almost completely, only emerging to do laundry or have a fresh breath of oxygen. In the pool house, he presumed, Ryan would lock himself away and hide from this new reality. Maybe he was scared all his memories of her would float away, be lost into the Newport wind, and he would forget her more and more as each day passed.

Seth sighed and turned on his heel, hearing noises to his left for the first time as he stood there. Ryan appeared in the crease between the doors for only a moment, eyes sadly glaring at Seth and squinting with the newfound light source. "Yes, I can." he mumbled. Seth turned around swiftly to meet Ryan's gaze. "And I plan to…" He took a step back and swung the door again, turning Seth away in silent affirmation. Seth lunged and leaned in his hand, stopping the door from shutting him out.

"Wait…" he begged, pushing the door back against Ryan's chest. He took a step onto the pool house platform, his hand remaining on the green painted wood. "What do you want?" Ryan asked, voice desperate with lingering frustration. His grip on the door and force against him weakened, a softer side coming through as the muscles in his throat tightened in sadness. Seth sighed again and let go of the door, his arm sliding lazily back to his side.

"Ryan, come on." he said, voice gentler. "Please just…let me in." Ryan let go, too exhausted and frenzied to even try and bother anymore. He was left standing next to the doorway as Seth squeezed his way inside and let the door shut behind him, walking into the darkened room. All blinds were drawn, only slits of sunlight peeking through onto the carpet. Seth stood in the center of the room, looking down at shards and pieces of metal and glass. He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced up at Ryan, licking his lips before speaking. "Uh…what happened to your alarm clock, buddy?"

Ryan looked down at the mess and then back at Seth, his answer deep voiced and urgent. "It fell." Seth opened his mouth, eyes still squinted. Thoughts ran though his head, sarcastic remarks being held back through his teeth and clenched tongue. He nodded and dropped the subject, knowing very well how it had broken. That was the third appliance this month to meet its ugly Ryan Atwood fate. Seth kicked around little pieces of glass with his sneaker, piling them to one side and shaking off the sticking remains. He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking up at Ryan who still stood by the door, giving Seth pitiful and weary eyes as he slouched in his dirty pajama pants and wife beater.

"You still haven't answered my question." he muttered with complete annoyance. "What do you want?" His face was stern and solid, traces of the old Chino-ridden Ryan peeking through. Seth leaned back against the wall, trying to remember a time when he was even remotely welcome in the pool house. He thought to himself, wishing that things could just be like old times. He missed what their lives used to be, as dramatic as they were. Really coming down to it, the first year Ryan came was the best of his entire life. "I just thought maybe we could put a little Seth/Ryan time on the books." he explained, hesitant to speak against Ryan's impeding death glares. "I figured you could use a little entertainment."

Ryan looked away and moved back toward the bed, plopping down on his knee amongst the mess of blankets. He slammed into the pillows, pulling his comforter over his stomach and up across his face. "I really don't feel like it, Seth." his muffled voice answered, body completely concealed once again. His breath steadied as his body relaxed and went back into its lazy bones position. He closed his eyes and prayed that Seth would go away. Ultimately, Ryan knew all Seth wanted was to help him. All he wanted was his friend back. That's what everyone wanted. But Ryan knew he couldn't push himself into moving on. It's not something he did. He'd always mope around after someone left him, so now, with a situation a million times worse, he knew it would probably take a million times more minutes and hours to even get up in the morning.

Seth shook his head and grimaced, sensing a pattern forming. This had been going on for weeks now…ever since it happened. Everyone had tried to talk to him only to be pushed away or given rolled eyes and various grunts. "You haven't felt like it in two months." He crossed his arms and let his feet slide, forming a crooked C against the pillar between each set of double doors. Ryan moved to his side on the bed, now facing the wall where Seth had first entered. He pushed down the blanket that covered his face, reopening his eyes and staring off into space once again. "You just…don't get it, Seth." he said, refusing to make eye contact and hoping to keep the last possible strands of his dignity.

"You're right, I don't get it." he agreed. "I don't get what I don't understand." Silence filled the room before he went on. "I was there too and so was Summer and everyone else." he said shaking his head. "Life sucks, dude. We've been over that." He paused, sensing his sudden harshness and Ryan's silent lump of a body still curled up on the futon. Seth naturally softened, sighing with the horrible truth that hung on his best friend. "Sometimes you just lose people…" he finished.

Seth looked to his dirty high topped Converse, pressed together and planted firmly on the hard wood floor, just where the checkered carpet met its end. He took a deep breath and lifted his head again, meeting Ryan's eyes as he sat up. He pulled himself into a sitting position, his blankets falling in a bunch at his lap. He grinded his teeth with Seth's words, shaking his head in disagreement with his last statement. His eyes lowered, moving to stare straight across the room to his television table. "I didn't lose her…" he mumbled, letting his tongue slide across his dry bottom lip. He stopped on a picture frame, tightly hugging a picture of her between the panels of glass.

"She was taken from me."


	3. Woes of the Little Miss Vixen

This next chapter is the longest I've ever written...I think it deserves some good reviews. And I have text mixed in with a bunch of stuff so just know that writing is in italics!

_

* * *

Chapter Three: Woes of the Little Miss Vixen_

Boxes were piled throughout her room, some already closed and taped, others spitting out clothes onto the carpet. Hangers poked out from all corners, vibrant colors of t-shirts and dresses accumulated high atop her bed and almost every other empty surface. The door was closed, stuff pushed up against it and the furthest wall. She sat in the center of everything, her legs curled up and folded on top of each other. Her fingers were entwined and formed into a ball, body slouching and eyes running over the mess that was now her bedroom. She sighed and let a hand run over her forehead and hairline, dropping back down to lie lazily on her lap. Her body relaxed with the long exhalation, back and neck bending further into almost jelly. She twiddled her thumbs and licked her lips, not knowing what to do next, taking a break from the imminent chaos that she had created.

College didn't start for another two and a half weeks, but she needed to get a jump on things, knowing perfectly well that moments like these would come and she'd be delayed in her packing by blips of frustration or tears. That happened a lot lately. Everything she had learned, all the progress she had made in therapy wasted away for a few minutes, hurling her back into the new person she had really become since it happened. Her face was blank, skin pale and makeup free. Her eyes were glued on the garment at her knees, folded and wrinkled every which way on the carpet. She stared down at it, eyelids falling every few seconds in a dry blink. Her hands found the soft fabric, and her thumbs grazed the embroidered blue lettering that spelled out a future lost.

She remembered purchasing the very item, a sweatshirt, pink in color, with a long, tightened hood. Her faith and excitement coursing through her as she concealed it until it was time. Worn only once, the previous and natural warmth had faded with days, making it much less inviting. A lump formed in the back of her throat, a feeling that seemed almost routine in her new life, but still that much uncomfortable. Her hands left the cloth, coming together again as she swallowed the lump and closed her eyes for more than a second. She breathed out slowly, something her therapist told her to do when she got overwhelmed with feelings of grief and remorse. She stayed that way for a few moments, legs still crossed and hands still tightly clutched in their proper position.

Opening her eyes again, she reached for the shoulder portion of the sweatshirt and lifted it into the air, flattening the wrinkles and folding it neatly so the letters fanned across the chest. Biting her top lip, she neatly folded each corner, making it into a square with only the letters across it. It rested on her bent knee, lingering, haunting her, before she tossed it into a nearby open suitcase.

_**Flashback…**_

Her sweatshirt landed face up atop the rest of her pile of clothing. It rested on the top of a mountain of other folded garments, compacted tightly into the large piece of luggage. Clothes were folded for the most part, still neatly stacked, freshly taken from their places in her drawers. One by one, she organized and compacted each and every belonging, attempting to find a way to pack everything she wanted from home in this tight space…failing mercilessly. She gave up trying to be a pack rat, tossing various items to the other side of the bed. She looked through her stuff, now only keeping whatever she absolutely needed during her time away.

Zipping everything up, she picked up a bag and let it slide down her legs to the ground. Her eyes fell, knowing that this was really it. She scanned over her bare walls and half empty closet, making sure nothing precious was forgotten. She stopped and stared at the small wooden table across from her bed. On the dusty surface stood several picture frames, frilly and girly, undoubtedly pink with teenage flare. Releasing the handles and straps that hung from her palms, she stepped over her mountains of bags and walked to the wall, peering down at herself in the small squares of glass.

One frame, the largest, was separated in four, leaving smaller space for pictures but greater the abundance. In each slot rested a picture of her and Summer, aging years through time. Marissa smiled, picking up the back and running her fingers across the front. Memories, a lifetime of friendship, were being left behind, even if only for a year. Her eyes moved from slot to slot, seeing the obvious changes of the two of them from elementary school to present day. She placed the frame back and moved onto the next, one of her and Kaitlin when they were much smaller, before everything got crazy and they resented each other for no real reason at all.

The final picture was of her and Ryan, a moment frozen forever, lasting through all the difficulty from the past few years. Her eyes welled up, holding the dark frame in both hands, eyes glued to the happiness she longed to have now. Their faces were only inches apart, surrounded by the glow of lights around the large, circular wheel that occupied the center. Carnival hustle and bustle was out of focus, the main focus of the picture their smiling faces. Tears fell silently, clouding the glass with dripping wetness. She sniffed to herself, gripping the wood tighter in her hands and bringing it up against her chest. Foot steps approached her door, interrupting her moment with quiet knocks.

She quickly turned away, wiping tears off her cheeks and bending to shove the frame into her bag on the floor. She stood up again, clearing her throat and nervously pulling her shirt down. "Um…come in." she called, sniffling again and leaning back against her bed post. The door handle turned slowly and the door inched forward, Summer's head peeking in past the white molding. "Hey, Coop." she greeted, voice soft, but high as usual. "You almost ready?" Marissa closed her eyes and nodded, opening them again as Summer moved into the room. She looked around at Marissa's packing, sighing to herself and noticing Marissa's glassy eyes. "Coop, you okay?" She moved in closer, plopping down on the messy bed to look up at her. "Yeah…I'm fine." Marissa lied, holding back her tears.

Summer patted the space next to her on the bed, and took Marissa's hand as she sat. "I can't believe you're really leaving." Summer said, voice breaking with sadness. Marissa nodded, looking around her room again. "I have to keep telling myself that it's not forever." she whispered, looking down at their entwined hands. She met Summer's eyes, her own tears starting to brim. "Yeah." she agreed. "We'll be back together in a year, right?" Marissa half smiled and again nodded her head with her question, having nothing more to say. "I know you really need to do this." Summer continued. "This year has been pretty crazy…not that any of the others were exactly perfect." She sighed and let her other hand rest on Marissa's which still clutched hers tightly. "We're all gonna be fine."

Marissa swallowed the threat of tears, knowing that they'd both completely fall apart if one dared fall. "I know." she mumbled, trying to put on a happy smile. Summer cleared her throat and looked forward, getting up from the bed, still holding Marissa's hand. She pulled her to her feet as well and looked down at her luggage. "Alright, finish packing." Marissa released her hand and slid her own into her back packets. "Yeah, I'll meet you downstairs." she informed, watching Summer nod and walk toward the door. "Sum?" Marissa called before she walked out. She paused for a second as Summer turned, searching for the right words. "If you were leaving for a year…and things were weird between you and Seth…how would you go about saying goodbye?"

Summer bit her lip and leaned against the door knob. "I don't know, to be honest." she admitted, with a shrug. "I guess I would just write him a letter." Summer knew that Marissa and Ryan were never good with words. If she wrote him a letter, she could get out everything she wanted to say. Marissa nodded, thinking the exact same thing. "Thanks." she said, giving Summer another forced grin as she closed the door and walked away. Marissa bent down again and unzipped the front compartment of her luggage, pulling out the plastic packaging that held her sheets of stationary. She let her tongue slide over her lips, and walked over to her desk, plopping down on the wooden chair and letting the package of paper fall onto the desk's surface.

She stared at the stationary, waiting for words to magically appear across the fresh sheets of paper. She clutched a pen between her fingers, leaning her forehead on her opposite palm, racking her brain with thoughts and feelings, trying to put everything into sentences…paragraphs…anything solid. '_Dear Ryan_,' she managed to scribble at the top, letters jumbled with the nervous shakes of her hand. She continued to ramble on about how they were friends…or more than friends…or how they couldn't really be friends because of their past…before she crinkled up the sheet and started over. '_Dear Ryan_,' she wrote again, moving the base of the pen up and down between her thumb and pointer finger. She bit her lip and thought for a moment, then began writing again, letting herself go now with truthful closure.

She found herself near the end of the paper and began to wrap it up, saying her goodbyes and leaving confessions, leading up to her signature in the bottom center. She read over every word again, swallowing dryly and folding the paper into precise thirds. She contemplated whether or not to rip it up and toss away the thought completely, but managed to shove it into an envelope and jot down the Cohen's address as a finish. She held in tightly between both hands, letting the bottom crease of the envelope face forward. She sighed, trying to build up her courage, before putting that aside and pulling out another sheet.

_**End Flashback…**_

She now clutched a piece of paper in her hands, folded and wrinkled on top of its matching, ripped envelope. She bit her lip and stared down at it, letting a finger slip inside the creases to bend and flatten it out. Her lips curled down into a fixed frown, her eyes somber and even fuller of depression. Her fingers traced the running script across the page, dots of mutated ink, tear-stained memories flowing every which way. Her head shot up with a knock on the door, hurling her forward to hide the crinkled paper in a neighboring memory box. "Come in." she spoke through cracking voice.

The door across from her creaked open with little force, Seth's curly head appearing as he walked in. "Hey." he greeted, eyes squinty in surprise as he looked around the messy room. She got up from the carpet, repeating his greeting and brushing off the static cling of dust and fuzz from her thighs. "How's the packing going?" he asked, holding out his hands to her as she approached. They intertwined fingers, patty-cake style, standing awkwardly opposite each other. She let out a deep breathe and looked around herself, again swallowing the huge lump in the back of her throat. "MMM…kind of got side tracked." she muttered, looking down at their feet.

"How's Atwood?" she huffed through the dryness of her mouth. Seth shrugged, letting his eyes fall as he played with her hands. "He's…distant?" he said, not knowing how to truly explain Ryan's attitude and behavior. "But I actually got in for some interaction earlier…finally." He finished as they crashed on the mounds of bedspread and clothing. She shifted on the mattress and faced him, twisting so one leg hung off the bed. Clutching his hand, she swallowed and took a deep breathe, letting her other hand smooth out her hair. "Well if anyone could ever get through to Ryan…I'm sure it would be you." she reassured, voice still just above a whisper. They sat in silence for a moment, listening to each other quietly breathe. Seth looked up at her, only to see her looking down, distraught, obviously upset. He put a hand to her face, letting his thumb linger on her cheek.

"How are _you_ doing?" he asked, ducking his head down as she lifted hers up and their eyes met. She immediately tried to look somewhat happier, giving him a weary half smile even though she was falling apart inside. "I'm okay." she said, lying to them both. "I just have a lot more packing to do." Seth nodded and stood up, pulling her with him. "Yeah, I should go see if my parents are back yet." he said. "My dad took her off for a romantic weekend at Palm Springs." She nodded and moved into him, burying her face in his scrawny chest. He held her tightly, hoping a big hug might make her feel a little better. He bent with her height, kissing the top of her head before pulling away. "I'll be back in the morning to drive you to therapy, okay?" he said, kissing her lips before pulling away and walking to the door. "I love you." she called, turning to look at the back of him. "Love you, too." he replied, opening the door and walking out.

She was left alone again, collecting her thoughts as they scrambled in her mind. Things had just gotten so weird. Everything had gone from bad to worse. She knew she still had Seth, but to her, in a situation like this, sometimes having him wasn't enough. She wanted and needed her rock. She wanted her best friend back, her Coop. She moved from where Seth had left her, peering toward the closed door before going back to where she sat before he came. She got to her knees, bending to the carpet to pick up a colored box of pictures and paper. Summer held it, staring at its contents, walking back to her bed without her lifting her head. She bit her lip, sitting back down and placing the box on the bed next to her. She pulled out a pile of paper…old notes and sentimentals piled and folded together. Her hand stopped at the piece of paper she had hidden, picking it up and pushing the rest aside.

'_Dear_ _Summer', _she read, her eyes scanning the words at the top of the page. She remembered finding the envelope the day after it happened, sitting in Marissa's room balling her eyes out. Her name was scribbled on the front, catching Summer's eye on the desk. '_After all this time, I can't believe I'm saying goodbye to you.' _the letter began. _'I know it's not forever, but a year is going to seem like it without my best friend.' _Seem like forever actually turned into forever. Or the rest of her forever at least._ 'You've been there for me for our entire lives, and now you are more of a sister than a friend to me. We've been through everything together- the good and the bad- and you've stood by me through all of my craziness.' _she read on. Summer's heart swelled. This time, it was someone else's craziness that started the problem.

'_I don't know how to thank you. All I know is that I need to do this. I need to leave…at least for a little while. I have to start new, forget the past, and try to move on from the weight that has been on me for so long.' _Summer knew Marissa had to go. Get herself back on track and try and sort out all her thoughts and plans._ 'I hope you understand and I hope you find everything you've been wanting and looking for at Brown next year. I'm sure Seth will fill up most of the time that you would have spent with me. Have fun with that.' _She was right about the Seth part, but Summer also knew that she would still feel the void and loneliness even with him around._ 'I know this year has been really difficult and I'm mostly to blame, but I need to ask you one last favor before I leave.'_

Anything. She would have done anything then and would certainly do anything now._ 'Keep an eye on Ryan for me? I don't mean like the "make sure he dates no one else" type of thing. Just tell me how he's doing and if he's happier in the future._ Doubtful…he wouldn't be happy with her away. And now, his unhappiness without her was a complete certainty. '_You really are the only one who sees how much I love him, Sum, and you have no idea how hard it is for me to let him go.' _Marissa went on, her honestly pouring out to Summer who always knew it all along. Of course Marissa loved him. Of course.You could see it in her eyes and actions…her life just didn't work without him. _'Please just…take care of him. I think leaving now is the best thing for not only me, but for both of us, for everyone. I hope a year will help me fix my life because now I'm just too lost in Newport.'_

Everyone was lost now. Losing her gave them all a huge reality check, a huge slap in the face and in the heart. _'I love you, Summer and I'll miss you everyday.' _she wrote, starting the last few lines. '_I don't know what type of e-mail service there is on my dad's boat but I hope we can work something out. I'll be seeing you, friend.'_ She'd be seeing her…in an open casket. That was it. The end of the letter, the end of their friendship, the end of who she used to be. She signed her name at the bottom. A final goodbye. Forever. Summer finished the letter, holding it tightly. She didn't know how many times she had read it, but it seemed like it held something more than just words. That letter was a memory of her, and it chilled Summer to the bone the things she had mentioned within it. _'tell me how he's doing and if he's happier in the future.' _

Ryan was the most miserable Summer had ever seen him. How could he not be? He was with her when she went. He held her as she took her last breathes, looking up at him, bloody, battered, and helpless. Summer shook away the thought, feeling sick to her stomach imagining her like that, scared to death and probably knowing and feeling her time was up and it was over. She wondered if Marissa had said anything to him…whether she was even able to speak and say goodbye…whether she went in pain or only felt the calm numbness. She closed her eyes and clutched the letter tighter, lifting it against her chest before letting is rest on her lap again. The paper, folded in thirds bent respectively on both ends, facing her, parallel, awaiting another set of fresh fallen tears.

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Hope that wasn't too confusing. Please review me! 


	4. Sometimes When the Wind Blows

**I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I've been working on it for a while. I hope it is worth the wait. Please read and review!**

**Chapter Four: And Sometimes When the Wind Blows… I'll Pretend it's You**

He stood over the burning stove, pan in hand, watching the sweet smelling batter rise and darken into perfect golden circles. He swallowed deeply, licking his lips and sucking in the breeze that made its way in from the window. The tiny hairs encircling his face tickled his nostrils, making him flinch as he brushed them away. His hair had gone grayer, as had the skin on his face. The vibrancy of life he had felt so recently had now gone away…leaving him completely drained.

He flipped the pan cakes, pressing the opposite sides down onto the pan, hearing them sizzle in place. Leaving the pan, he walked back to the kitchen island where a tray was set up. Its contents were sprawled around aimlessly…hot cup of coffee, morning paper, silverware, and juice. He turned again slowly, reaching for a small miniature vase that was placed at the window sill. He poked at the freshly picked daisy, fluffing its pedals before giving it its own spot on the surface of the tray. Everything, even the flowers surrounding, were depressed these days. He leaned back into the refrigerator, closing his eyes and letting out a most frustrated sigh. Days had been like this for months now. No one had recovered. Not even a little. Sometimes he wondered why the sun even bothered to rise.

"What's that smell?" a voice asked, breaking his train of dejected thought. He took a strong breath, running to the stove at the realization. He shut off the burners, picking up the pan and patting the smoke away as he let cold water run over it. Again, he groaned, frustrated. He looked to the person standing in the doorway. "Morning, Kaitlin." he greeted. He pointed to the sink. "You uh…want some breakfast?" She grimaced as the smoke and steam cleared. "Um, no…thanks, Neil." she said, trying to decline in the nicest way possible. "Just take the good ones to mom. I'm not that hungry anyway." She gave a weak smile, giving him a nod before she took a seat on a stool at the island. They stared at each other for a split second, before letting their eyes fall to the tray dividing them.

"Has she said anything to you today?" Neil asked, breaking the silence that loomed about the house. Kaitlin frowned and shook her head no. "I tried to get her up before I came down…but the door was locked and her room was still dark." she explained. Neil closed his eyes. "You don't think she…?" He stopped mid-thought, hoping Kaitlin would know what he meant. She shrugged, her eyes soft and utterly lost. "I got rid of everything I could find in there…flushed it all…but who knows what else she has hidden." Kaitlin stared at her fingernails, remembering the night she and Neil had come home from picking up dinner, only to find her mother passed out in her bedroom…an open, half-empty bottle of pills at her side. She just couldn't handle her grief anymore…just didn't want to keep living. She was hospitalized for a few days, telling the doctors that it was only an accident- she would never intentionally do anything like that. And since she was the infamous Julie Cooper, who could talk her way out of an execution, she was released from the hospital, no questions asked.

That was about two months ago. Kaitlin and Neil had tried to keep a watchful eye on Julie…she had acted so sketchy since the accident, more so than she was beforehand if you can imagine. Everyday she would come out of her darkened bedroom, baggy-eyed and completely disheveled…but falsely cheerful. She would run around the house, trying to keep herself busy doing things that didn't need to be done. She'd ignore or barely listen to anything Neil or Kaitlin had to say, and then once it was dark she would slip into her bedroom and do God knows what until noon the next morning. Life had become a cycle of depression, filled with whacky ways of coping the loss of a daughter and sister.

"Well, let's bring this up for her, hmm?" Neil suggested, picking up the tray and making his way passed Kaitlin. She got up and followed behind, going slowly, knowing this morning would just be like all the other mornings of the passed three months. They made their way up the spiraled staircase, dragging their feet, swallowing the growing lumps inside their throats. At the top of the stairs, the house's energy evidently darkened. The sun didn't shine where it usually had, pouring through the windows, onto the colored walls and carpeting. All the shades were drawn. All the doors were closed. All the rooms and halls were filled with ghostly silence.

Neil stopped at Julie's door, balancing the tray of food in one hand so he could gently knock with the other. He stood with his ear pressing against the wood, trying to hear any kind of movement inside. Kaitlin stood next to him, shivering for a moment, feeling a chill run up her spine. She looked to her left, peering at the closed door only a few yards away. She hadn't been in the room behind that door for a long time. Her sister's room. Marissa's room…or so it was. She looked up at Neil for a moment, leaving him occupied with her mother's drama. She walked down the hallway, stopping her hand from turning the brass knob. She felt nervous, emotional, her palm hovering over the handle. She knew everything would look just as it did before she died. The room wasn't done being lived in yet. Marissa's clothes still lied on the floor and the bed was left unmade from the morning of the accident. Nobody wanted to move anything. It was left how she had left it.

Kaitlin moved her hand up, touching the door, finally pushing it open only a crack. The room wasn't dark as she figured it would be. The shades were open and sun streamed onto the floor. She pushed the door all the way to the wall, exposing the rest of the room. Her eyes ran over her sister's dust-covered belongings. Her feet were planted in the doorway. She looked back over her shoulder, watching Mr. Roberts fumble with the lock of Julie's bedroom door. She turned back to the room and took a step inside. She touched the dresser to her left, running her fingers across the surface above the half-open drawers. Rubbing her fingers together, she moved to swing the door nearly closed. Kaitlin walked to Marissa's bed. The wrinkles in the sheets where she used to sleep were still intact. It was almost like she never left at all. Kaitlin lowered herself slowly onto the mattress, letting her body sink into the softness.

She stared at Marissa's bedside table where jewelry and paper were scattered throughout. She reached for a silver chain with a familiar jagged pendant. She laid it in her palm, eyes filling with tears. Her thumb ran across the half heart hanging from the chain. The words "Best Big Sister" were etched on the silver. Tears ran down her cheeks. She remembered when she bought that for Marissa years earlier for Christmas. Kaitlin looked down at her chest, where her own necklace hung. She matched up each pendant until they fit together, making a whole heart broken down the middle. Marissa had gotten Kaitlin the other side that was respectively etched "Best Little Sister". She clutched the necklace to her chest. If only she could have honored that title. She was far from the best little sister. She had done anything she could to push Marissa's buttons. And yet, despite everything Kaitlin had done, Marissa was always there when she was needed. She honored her half heart whole heartedly. (ha….get it?) Kaitlin separated the necklaces, placing Marissa's back with the others.

"Kaitlin, you want a go at this?" Her head shot up at the sound of Neil's voice. She cleared her throat and swiped her finger tips below her eyes, wiping away the tear drops. She got off the bed and look back at the dresser as she walked toward the door. Opening it fully again, she stood there for a second before closing it and turning back to Neil and the dark hallway. He stepped aside as she came forward, face to face with her mother's bedroom door. She brought up a fist to knock. "Mom?" she called. Silence. "Mom? Come on. Dr. Roberts and I brought breakfast." Silence. Kaitlin let out a frustrated sigh. Neil gave her an encouraging look. "It- It's a beautiful day outside, ma. I was wondering if maybe-" The door opened. Julie stood in front of her now, eyes open, but saggy and depressed. She was wearing make up, was dressed, and was clutching a purse under her right arm. "Hello, Kaitlin. Neil." she said flatly, looking back and forth to both of them.

"Julie?" Neil said in astonishment, eyes running over her. "What?" He looked down at Kaitlin. "Mom, you're so…old you." she said, looking down her body again. Julie smiled, looking humbled. "Well, thank you sweetheart." she said over jovial. She took a deep breath. "Well, that smells good." Neil nodded and held it toward her a little. "Kaitlin and I thought you might like something to eat…but since you're already up why don't you come down and eat with us at the table?" Julie held her purse tighter under her arm. "That's a very nice thought you two…but I was actually planning to head out." she said, moving passed them. "I'm supposed to meet someone in ten minutes. And it's already lunch time anyway." Kaitlin urged toward her. "But Mom…come on. Can't you stay for just a little? Neither of us have had a real conversation for a while now." Julie looked at her but continued her way down the stairs. "Honey, I'd love to but I really have to go now."

"Mom…please." she said. Julie stopped at the dramatic audibility in Kaitlin's voice. "I know what you're going through, okay?" she continued. "…I miss her, too." Julie's face grew pale. She swallowed heavily. Kaitlin took another step closer. "But if there's anything I learned from being a Cooper…it's that you're not supposed to push people away when bad things happen." Julie's expression turned stern again as Kaitlin fell silent. Julie cleared her throat and batted away forming tears from her eyes. "I'm not- I'm not talking about this right now." she insured, shaking her head with a strapping inhale. "I'm sorry, Kaitlin. But I'm late as it as. We'll-We'll talk later." She turned away from her daughter and Dr. Roberts, descending the rest of the staircase. Kaitlin leaned back into the banister, closing her eyes with a devastated sigh. Neil approached from behind, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"That was the first time she said more than two words to me in three months." she spoke gently. Neil shrugged, squeezing her arm reassuringly. "Don't pay heed, Kaitlin." He glanced down the stairs to the front door. "Your mom she's just…she's in a rough spot right now." Kaitlin sighed aggressively, watching her mother walk outside "Aren't we all?"

He sat in the pool house, piece of paper in hand. It sat folded in his palm and his eyes burned through the back of it. He rolled it between palms, rotating it back and forth, up and down, feeling the paper between his fingers. She had written him a letter. The day she died she had given it to Summer to give to him. A letter. That was her goodbye. He had read it only once since then. He couldn't bear reading what she had to say after she was gone. It killed him inside. Her words were so sad, but hopeful at the same time. Her talk of the future, wishes that would never come true…the future she spoke of would never come. The future for her. The future for them they knew would eventually happen. It had all gone away so quickly.

Between thoughts, he heard quiet knocks on the pool house's open door. Ryan still stared at the letter in his hands. "Go away." he grumbled, not caring who was standing there. "I don't mean to disturb you, Ryan." Only then did he look up. "Julie, hi." he said, getting to his feet. "I, uh, I forgot you were coming for a bit…sorry." She shook it off, stepping into the room. He sat back down and she moved to sit next to him. Julie slid her purse down her arm to rest on her lap. "I, um, I know where he is, Ryan." she murmured, pulling a folder out and putting her bag on the floor by her feet. "The P.I. we hired was finally able to track him down. He's somewhere in-"

"Wait." he said, shaking his head. "I don't want to know." Julie squinted her eyes in the utmost confusion. "What?" she asked in astonishment. "Why?" Ryan sighed, staring at the picture across from them on his television stand. He stared at her smiling face. "Because" was all he said. Julie followed his eyes to the picture, and then looked back at him. "Ryan, I-"

"Why did this take so long in the first place?" he asked, snapping to his feet to step in front of her, leaving the letter on the bed. "It's been three months. It really shouldn't be so hard for a professional to find some idiot." He ran a palm over the back of his neck, beginning to pace back and forth in rage. "Ryan, you know the man I hired doesn't have a lot of experience in cases like this…we agreed that we wouldn't get the police more worked up in finding him than they already are." she explained. He paused to look at her. She looked down at the folder and then back at his face. "We also agreed that when my guy found him…you would be the first to know so you could get the closure you need." He shook his head, biting his lip. "Well now…it's different." he said. "I don't care."

Julie frowned, and shot up from the bed just as he did. "That's a lie." she said. "Don't tell me you don't care. Ryan, you loved me daughter. I know you did. You can't just- just give up now when we finally have what we've been looking for." He didn't look at her until she finished. "You're right." he said, with a nod. "I did love your daughter…very much. That's why I won't go after him." He looked at Julie with a stern sureness. "Marissa…she-she wouldn't want me stressing over this. All she wanted was to keep me out of trouble. If I went after him I'd just…I'd just kill him right then and there and she wouldn't want me to be in jail for the rest of my life." He took the folder from her hands. "Just let the police take care of it."

He walked passed her to take his seat back on the edge of his bed. He picked up the envelope he had left and replaced it with the folder at his side. Julie glanced down at his hands. "What is that?" He swallowed heavily and longly inhaled. "It's a letter…from Marissa." he answered, looking down at the paper. "She left it for me the day of the accident." He opened the first flap, bending the paper gently back and forth with hesitation. Julie stared at it. "What does it say?" She looked at him eagerly, taking a sit across from him on the chair's ottoman beside the bed. "Please read it." she said. "If it's not too personal….I would really like to know what she had to say." He opened his mouth to speak, looking into her urgent eyes, closing his mouth again, halting his speech. "If you don't want to aloud…I can just…" Julie gestured, holding her hand out for the letter. Ryan shook his head. "No, no it's okay." he reassured, trying to build his own confidence. He cleared his throat, unfolding the letter completely, recognizing the scribbled text.

_Dear Ryan, _he read.

_For the past few days all I could think about was how I was going to say goodbye to you. I didn't know if we would be alone or if I'd just say goodbye to you and the Cohens all together at once. What would I say? How would I leave things with us? I kept imagining all kinds of different situations. A part of me imagined you running to stop me at the airport. Another part just saw us hugging and parting like old friends. Most of it was just my mind's wishful thinking._

He paused for a second, looking up to her mother. "Go on." she said. bobbing her head in the letter's direction.

_I want you to know so much._ The letter went on._ There are a lot of things I haven't told you about myself and about things that happened when you were away or we were apart. I missed you every second when you went home to Chino. That was probably the worst time of my life. _It was mine too, he thought. _I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. _For what? _I've wanted to say that to you for a long time now. I'm sorry I dragged you into my drinking problem and all the drama with my parents. _Julie's heart stopped beating._ I'm sorry about what happened with Oliver and Johnny. I'm sorry I let you down time and time again and I broke your trust in me. You deserved better than me, and I'm so sorry that I couldn't give you everything that you gave me._ I deserved nothing but you, he said in his head._ Despite the constant chaos I brought into your life, you never, ever, gave up on me. You were always there when I needed you and you gave me absolutely everything with no questions asked. You saved my life, Ryan. You made me a better person. In more ways than you can ever imagine. _Ditto._ Thank you for standing at the end of that driveway._

Ryan paused again, running over that sentence one more time in his head. He briefly smiled for a moment. "I don't understand." Julie said in question. "That's where we met." he explained, still looking at her words. "When I first came here I was standing at the end of the driveway…and she was standing at yours…waiting for Luke to pick her up." His eyes met the picture frame again and they moved directly to her face. Julie listened intently. "We got to talking and…I don't know." he continued. "I was in love with her even then…she made me not want to leave." Julie's eyes stung with the threat of crying. "That's a really nice memory." she said. Ryan looked at her, agreeing.

_I don't know where either of us will be if and when I come back to Newport. _He read. _We both know that anything can happen in a year's time. We've known each other for almost three now, and it feels like my time with you was the equivalent of a lifetime. We've all grown and been through so much together. You've come so far and I am so proud of you. _He exhaled a sigh, his body tightening. He couldn't cry in front of Julie. _You'll do great things in this world, Ryan Atwood. I'm blessed to have earned your friendship, and at one time, your love. I only wish there were more people like you. _

Tears fell onto Julie's cheeks.

_I'm sorry things could never really work out between us. I know the majority of our troubles were my fault. But who knows, right? Maybe one day we'll be perfect for each other. You'll be an architect, we'll buy the model home, bring cute little blonde haired and blue eyed babies into the world…just imagine it. _They both laughed for a moment at the thought. _There will always be a place in my heart for you, Ryan. I know that no matter what I will love you forever. Go find happiness. You deserve everything you want and more. _

_Marissa_

Tears welled up in his sad baby blues. He wouldn't look away from her cursive. His stare was broken with Julie's sniffles. "I wish she had thought such good things about me." she stated, sliding the back of her finger under her eyelid to scoop up some water. "I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner…you two really did love each other." Ryan nodded, folding up the letter and sliding it neatly back into its envelope. "I'll love her forever too, you know." he said, sliding his hand over the envelope, something he would treasure for the rest of his days. The room fell silent. He thought about what she had written. Some things made him angry. He didn't want her thinking that everything that went wrong with them was her fault. He was partially responsible in all of it too, right? He had suddenly gotten furious with himself. They had a new chance. They had both grown over the year and had a chance to make things better. But he had let her go…and while letting her go…she died.

He paused again in thought. But wait…who should he really be mad at here? Himself? Or the guy who took all their chances away? She could have left for a year, come back an even better person, and they could have picked up right where they had left off. Everything could have been perfect again. It wasn't _their_ fault. It was_ his_ fault. He ruined everything with his jealousy. The blue folder that laid by his side seemed to look a lot friendlier. Julie noticed his change in behavior. Two seconds ago he was sad and light heartedly remembering…now he had the look of murder in his eyes. "Ryan, what's wrong?" she asked with concern. "What is it?" Without answering, he picked up the folder and got to his feet, leaning across his bed to pick up his leather jacket. He hung it across his forearm, walking to the door. "Wait." Julie urged. "Ryan, I thought you said-"

"Forget what I said." he yelled back walking onto the patio. Julie got up and walked to the doorframe, looking after him as he disappeared. "Julie?" Sandy walked toward her, closing the back door of the house behind him. He reached the stairs of the pool house and glanced inside before looking toward the driveway. A car engine started and tires peeled out. "Where's Ryan going?" he asked, looking back at Julie. She shrugged, looking toward the car. "I don't know." she lied. The two stared at each other, listening to the engine sound get quieter with distance.

He drove around the streets of Newport, not acknowledging his speed. The windows were rolled down so the fresh air might make him relax. His seat belt hung at the head rest of the driver's seat. He gripped the wheel with his left hand, letting the other hang out the window, touching the side of the car. He was in control. The sun glared off his mirrors, reflecting into his face from the glass. The sky grew darker and the air around him was heavy, getting harder to breathe in. He passed the water, peering out toward the girls in their bikinis and the guys playing volleyball in their Hawaiian flowered swimming trunks. Newport had gotten even more cliché. He stopped the car where the road met the sand, getting out with the folder in hand. Alone and in silence, he walked across the beach, to the small, painted white shack that he knew so well.

He climbed the steady ramp, plopping himself down where it leveled off. He shifted against it, trying to get comfortable. He knees bent upward toward his chest, arms hanging off of them. The folder now rested at his side once more. He droned out the talking and laughter of fellow beach-goers, singling out the sound of the waves. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and listening to the crashing of the water. He thought back to the nights when he and Marissa would come there. With the beach empty, they could sit and be alone with the quiet. There was the only real place they could unwind and be with each other without all the drama. It was their spot.

His legs slid flat and he planted his hands on the deck of the stand to pull backward against the wall. His eyes fell to the folder, which was soon in his hands again. He stared down at the front cover and the white edges of paper peeking out from inside. He knew that once this folder was opened, and he read where Volchok was…the undying feeling of revenge would come over him and unlikely go away. As soon as it was open, everything would change and his conscious and Marissa's memory would eat away at him. His heart almost beat out of his chest. But Ryan knew something inside of him would also eat away with wonder. He had to know where he was. He opened the folder and ran his eyes over the print. Mexico. He had crossed the border, escaping the police, and was hiding under a fake identity in Ensenada. Ryan went over the small details, closing the folder again and gripping it tightly. His eyes fell shut for a second time.

He thought of all the nights he and Marissa would sit where he sat now. His brain brought him back to the night when he last saw his brother. _"I really want to put this behind us."_ she had said. But it had never fully gone away. They never talked about what happened the way other couples would. When he seemed the least bit unsure and asked if they even _could_ put it behind them, she said she hoped so, so he did too. That hope was diminished. It was like their past with Trey was always there. He was the elephant in every room. Then of course the dean came along, and Johnny, and Volchok. Each event of the previous year ran through his head, step by step, until the night of the accident. There were so many things he wished he could change. The tiniest things…conversations, romantic moments, and fights over nothing important. He wished he could just go back in time and keep her from getting in that car. Keep her from going to Newport Union. Keep her away from Volchok and keep her in his arms forever.

Ryan sat there for a long time, watching people come and go, thinking of everyday and every moment he would want to change, asking God to help him get through this or to just give him another chance. He just wanted a sign that things would be okay eventually. He rested the right side of his face against the wall of the lifeguard stand, watching the sun begin to set. The sky turned purple, twilight falling over Newport Beach. The breeze quickened and whipped into his face and hair. The anger he had felt hadn't gone away. He roughly rubbed his eyes as they burned with fresh tears. His whole body tightened and ached again with frustration and sadness. For the first time in hours, he got to his feet, picking up the folder he had so willingly discarded that afternoon. He walked across the darkened sand, leaving the lifeguard stand behind, now letting tears escape from the brims of his eyelids.

He reached the car, pressing automatic unlock before getting in. He drove like he had before. His foot pushed on the pedals harshly. He almost felt sick. The world spun around him. All the grief and anger he felt came down to this. His foot pushed harder. Street lights rushed passed, scenery flashing through the windows. His eyes burned. His neck burned. Fiery frustration piercing through him, coursing through his veins. He couldn't hear, couldn't see…not that he cared for either sense right now. He didn't want to there, alone, or alive. The road stretched out in front of him, endless. Breaths came rapidly. The rest of the world disappeared. He suddenly felt immensely unemotional. He limbs relaxed. His eyes grew tired with the burning of sweat condensed tears. He could feel nothing but the hard, firmly stretched leather at his fingertips. He looked down, running his hands over the smoothness of the wheel…before letting go entirely.

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	5. And Suddenly Everything Changed

**Chapter Five: And Suddenly Everything Changed…**

He was on his back. That's all he knew. Unable to open his eyes or move a single muscle. Everything was hazy and distorted to all senses. He could hear nothing. Nothing but his own breathing, gasps, chokes, blood coated inhalations. He felt warm, content, like how you feel in the middle of a cold night when you're snuggled in your blankets. He didn't know how long he lay there, but it felt like forever. Finally he was able to hear. He swallowed, breathing, calming, no longer tasting the drips of blood go down his throat. He felt the ground beneath him, the cold pavement, bits of metal and debris among his fingers. His eyes opened as he squinted through the light, brighter than anything he'd ever seen before. He closed them again, shaking his head, adjusting them. He bent his neck, lifting his head and staring straight, seeing his mangled vehicle feet away. He was thrown on impact.

He sat up, staring, ignoring any pain. He felt fine, good even, sitting there and watching his car ignite in flames. His lips curled, smiling, laughing. He laughed bitterly to himself, watching another car burn…amazed that he had survived yet again when Marissa was taken so quickly the last time. Why couldn't he just die? Was he fucking immortal? Did he have some kind of guardian angel that kept him out of harm's way? He sat there, spitting out blood and wiping away the sweat and oil that ran down his face. Pulling himself up, he stared down at the body of his car, feeling the heat and it was burning to a crisp. His anger overcame him. He grabbed scraps of metal that were scattered on the road, hurling them as hard as he could into the ball of fire. He grunted and screamed and kicked the back of the car until the fire reached his feet, and he moved away to not get burned. Exhausted, he fell to the ground again and sat listening to the roar of the flame.

He heard footsteps to his left, coming closer, clanking like the shoes were girly and expensive. He turned, still sitting on the ground. His heart skipped. She was there. She walked, hands in pockets, staring at the wreck and stopping at his feet. His breaths quickened, watching her, unbelieving. "Marissa?" he whispered, looking up at her. She looked so real. But she couldn't be. He was just hallucinating…right? "Hi, Ryan." she greeted softly, her warm smile looking as beautiful as he remembered. He started panicking, closing his eyes and opening them again, thinking that she would disappear. But every time they would open, she would be there, standing next to him, hands in pockets, smile bright as ever.

"W-What is this?" he choked out, scrambling slowly to his feet to stand up next to her. "How are you here right now?" Her expression grew worried, sad, as she slipped a hand out of one pocket to point passed him. He turned immediately, looking at what she had silently pointed out. He saw himself…in the middle of the street, bits of glass surrounding him, soaked in pools of blood. "Whoa." he huffed, staring at himself, before turning back to her. "Am I…?" She shook her head, still staring at the scene. "No." she said. "Not yet…there's still some life in you. You're just unconscious." He shook his head, confused, looking at her, his eyes pleading for more explanation. "I-I don't understand." he said weakly. She licked her lips, taking a step closer to him. She stood inches away, staring into his eyes. "I miss you." she whispered, reaching up to touch his face.

He expected her hand to be cold, dead, but they were warm, just like he felt. "I see you." she said. "Everyday I see how miserable you are." He leaned into her hand, unsure that this was really happening, savoring that feeling. Only now, his body ached. Ached for her again. She moved up her other hand, holding his face gently as he closed his eyes. She leaned up on the tips of her toes, pulling his head down so she could plant her lips on his forehead. He lifted his arms, attempting to pull her into him, but his hands only went through her. "Wh-…" He looked at his hands as she pulled away. "Why can't I…?" She held her sides, shivering and shaking off the sensation. "I don't know." she said. "I think I can touch you…because I'm fully dead." She shrugged, tilting her head in sadness of the fact. "It takes some getting used to." He looked concerned, watching her discomfort. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" She shook her head. "No, no I'm fine." she confirmed. "Your hand just kind of felt like it was inside me for a second. Nothing more than tickle."

He stared over her as she relaxed, standing erect and normal like before. She looked at the car in the distance, crackling fire engulfing the front. Her eyes moved back to the body, lying still on the side of the road. "Ryan, you have to go back." she said, looking at him again. He shook his head. "No…I-I can't." he said. "I can't without you." She smiled feebly, shoulders sinking. "You have to." she affirmed. "There's a reason why you keep surviving. I know that you crashed on purpose…you want to die…but you're job isn't done yet, Ryan." He continued to shake his head, his throat tightening as she spoke. "There's more for you to do in the world. I guess my time just came. Somehow I was meant to die." He stepped closer to her, hysterics taking over, mixing with his grief and anger. "No!" he screamed. "No, you weren't! He took you from me!" Tears welled in her eyes, watching his desperation. "Ryan, go. Please." she ordered. "You'll see…maybe you can fix this if you go back."

His heart beat rhythmically. He couldn't breathe again. His body shook in hysterics. "Marissa, please don't make me go." he pleaded. "Please. I need you there!" Tears ran down her cheeks, but her face remained still…and completely perfect. Again, she shook her head. "Go…" she whispered. She planted both hands on his chest, clenched her jaw and pushed. He was thrown backward, stumbling and trying to balance himself. "Try and fix it!" she called, pushing again. "Fix everything." He was thrown to the ground, landing on his own disheveled body, struggling, unable to move or respire again, stuck. His eyes fell shut once more. "Marissa…" he mumbled, weak and delirious. He felt immense pressure on his chest, his arms, now his entire body. He fought, trying to stay, trying to peel open his eyes just to look at her again. "Marissa…" He finally gave in, too much weight upon him, passing out but somehow still conscious. It felt like he was floating, flying, invincible to all logical human nature. It felt incredible, unreal, like it did to see her face again. The face he would want to see everyday for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, as quickly as it came, the feeling stopped. He was no longer lighter than air. In fact, he felt heavier than ever. He was laying on something, he knew that, feeling the softness beneath him, engulfing him. He dared not try and move or open his eyes, afraid of where he was or who'd he see this time. He clutched the material that entwined in his fingers, running his thumbs over the pliable fabric. It was cotton, he thought. He breathed now with ease, relaxing as he felt the same material against his toes. His eyelids slowly lifted. He saw ceiling, darkened, but ceiling nonetheless. He was in the pool house…he could recognize that ceiling anywhere…on his back in bed. He pulled himself up, immediately wincing in pain. He leaned backward to turn the light on, looking down at himself through the wife beater. He had two large red marks, split into sections like hands, one on each shoulder just below his collar bone.

His eyes widened in shock. It was real.

There was a knock at the pool house door, stealing his attention. "Uh…come in." he coughed, looking at his hands and holding them against his chest. Seth opened the door and stepped onto the hard wood flooring. "Hey, man." he said weakly. Ryan just stared at him, still in shock. "Okay…uh, it's a good thing you're sitting down." Seth looked at his feet nervously, thinking of how to word the devastation. "I don't really know how to tell you this." Seth said. "It's gonna be really upsetting." Ryan blinked continuously, mouth slighting open so air could travel quickly in and out of his lungs. "Um, I know what happened…with Trey and Marissa…like what really happened." Seth explained. Ryan furrowed his eyebrows, more confused at this moment than he had ever been before. "What-What are you talking about, Seth?" he asked, finding his voice and shaking his head. He swallowed, tasting blood again, staring at Seth, wondering how he got there and if this was even really happening. He touched his own face and ran his hand over his head, feeling the newfound length of his hair. "When we were in Miami…I guess he like attacked her or something, kinda forced himself on her." Seth said reluctantly.

Again, Ryan's heart skipped a beat. "I mean nothing happened, she fought him off." Seth continued. "But that's…that's why he's got the cut on his head." Ryan looked around, breathing in huffs. Seth took a step toward the bed, not really knowing what to say, seeing Ryan obviously freak. "I know it's hard to hear." he said. Ryan shook his head no. "This isn't happening." he whispered, closing his eyes. "This isn't real." He stopped for a moment, realizing what was going on and realizing where he was at that point in time. "Wait." he said, looking up at Seth again. "Wait…what-what's the date today?" Seth looked just as confused as Ryan. "Wh...Why?" he asked, shrugging, wondering why that was even relevant. "Answer the question, Seth!" Ryan yelled, getting antsy. Seth was taken aback by his outburst. "It's May 19th." he answered, eyes bugged and confused. "Of what year?" Ryan asked, looking down at the bed, awaiting the confirmation.

"2005."

A smile broke out on his face, astonishments and impossibilities aside. "No way…" he said to himself. It couldn't have been a dream. You don't just dream an entire year. That's impossible. How long had he been asleep? He remembered every day of senior year. Every moment he and Marissa had spent together. This was insane. It seemed so real. And how would you explain the marks on his shoulders? She told him to fix it all. He was sent back to change it. Sent back to save her. "I gotta go." he announced, jumping up from the bed. He scrambled around the pool house, grabbing a button-down shirt and pulling it over his wife beater. "Whoa…where are you going?" Seth asked, still dumbfounded to what was going on. "I have-I have to go see her." Ryan exclaimed, reaching for a pair of jeans. He dropped his pajama bottoms, not caring that Seth was in room, before pulling the jeans over his legs and up to his waist. "Why do you seem so happy about this?" Seth asked.

Ryan looked around the pool house, spotting the Range Rover keys on his bed side table. "I have to go, Seth." he said, picking them up. He walked to the door and patted Seth's back. "I'll explain everything later." Seth nodded and turned around. "Please do." Ryan beamed, opening the door. "Thanks for telling me, man." Ryan urged toward him, pulling Seth into a sloppy hug, before pulling away, continuing to beam with happiness. Seth was left standing in the pool house, his mouth gaping open. He could hear the screech of Ryan's tires in the distance. Summer stood in the Cohen kitchen, looking through the glass doors, giving Seth a questioning look. He shrugged her off, not knowing what to even say as explanation. He turned his head to look at the bed and then back to the open pool house door.

"What just happened?"


End file.
